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  “Acknowledged,” General Mengal conceded. “If I give the order to send a team after him, can you continue to track him?”

  “Unless they’re capable of magically masking their path, yes. And before you ask, no, they haven’t shown any signs of doing so.”

  “Understood.” General Mengal snapped his fingers at Dehwar. “Send them. Considering the investment we have put into developing this new mage into a strategic asset, I want him retrieved.”

  Jamal winced a bit hearing that impersonal way Nev was referred to, but he’d been in military long enough to have a decent understanding of the view. “Sir, may I go with them? I have a personal connection to Nev that might prove useful.”

  Mengal gazed at Jamal, a long considering look.

  Reza said, “Having him as a connection point as I track where Nev is being taken would have its uses.”

  “Go,” General Mengal said to Jamal.

  * * * *

  The wagon that held Nev slowed and stopped. Darkness had fallen hours ago, and the temperature had dropped. Perversely, Nev was glad for the rug on top of him. He would likely be even colder and more miserable without it. He had been given water a second time during the journey so far, and he wondered if this was just another brief travel break.

  Muffled voices held a conversation. Nev heard Kustaa’s name spoken and a phrase about a camp. After a bit, the rug was flung back. He was hauled to the back edge of the wagon, and the man with a fondness for a knife held it against Nev’s throat again.

  “The master will be pleased to see you’re in one piece…for the moment.” The man heaved Nev’s body over his shoulder.

  Nev caught a few glimpses of the area around him. This had to be a section of The Burning. The sand, the raw dry chill, no trees or buildings. He was carried into a huge tent and deposited onto the ground. A mix of mage lights and candles lit the interior.

  “Well, well…I see my property has been returned.” Kustaa slowed walked toward where Nev lay. He stopped a step away and glared down at Nev, then he kicked Nev in the side.

  Nev sucked in a sharp gasp of pain.

  “Maybe I should have just had them kill you.” Kustaa traced a symbol in the air above Nev. “Would you like to beg for your life?”

  Whatever the mage had done had altered the effect of the charm slightly because Nev was capable of a small amount of head movement and control of his voice returned. “I will not beg. Do what you will.”

  Kustaa raised an eyebrow. “Insolent creature.” He kicked Nev again. “Your actions of weeks past have delayed my plans. It’s now time to pick up where I left off.” He moved around the center area of the tent, placing more candles, traced sigils in the sand and in the air.

  Nev felt magic building, creeping through the sand and stirring the slightest of breezes. It was a thick, heavy, miasmic sensation, radically different from the magic Reza had been teaching him. If he could have run, he would have, but he couldn’t even crawl.

  “Once the portal is open, I will bid forth an oschaert from the realm beyond and bind it to my will. Perathea will reign supreme once more.” Kustaa reached down and gripped Nev’s throat.

  “No.” Nev choked out a barely audible protest. Energy was being sucked from his body in slow, agonizing waves. He tried to scream. Only a thin whimper came out. No, no, no, he had come to the decision during the long day and night of his abduction that he would attempt to make Kustaa kill him as swiftly as possible.

  Nev scrunched his eyes shut and reached his own magic down deep into the ground, hoping to somehow disrupt and overload Kustaa’s abilities. In the dark earth, scorched by centuries of uncontrolled burning, there was power, furious leftovers of the wars combined with primitive elemental energy. He touched it, and it surged. It ripped through him, not unlike the power of the ley line.

  And it showed him a thread of connection he had never contemplated before. Between his body and Kustaa’s ran a gauzy filament. It had always been there, dimly present in Nev’s awareness, and he assumed it was an artifact of Kustaa’s spell that had created him. Yet…

  The energy flow that Kustaa had utilized time and time again to rip life force from Nev didn’t have to proceed in only one direction. It could be manipulated. The direction could be changed…and so he changed it.

  The dark primitive force from the earth could be used, or it could be fed. Nev fed it. He sucked energy from Kustaa, drawing it faster and faster, changing the tone, altering the texture and the color. With harsh, thorough efficiency, he removed Kustaa’s magic, all his magic, every facet, every nuance, every single capability.

  Now Kustaa was the one who screamed, in frustration, in pain, and then in terror. He fell to the ground. “You can’t! It’s not possible. No! No!”

  The charm holding Nev dissolved into nothingness. He got to his feet and staggered out of the tent. The elemental force of The Burning sang in his bones, and he walked out across the sand a few steps before he stopped. He held too much. There was no way he could contain it. It didn’t matter that he had already emptied a vast amount from Kustaa into its belly. There was more, much more. So he gave it away.

  The swirling cone of a firestorm surrounded and embraced him, and he stood looking straight up at the sky, untouched by the lethal whirling dervish of flame.

  * * * *

  The group sent by General Mengal had been riding hard for hours. Reza had given Dehwar a small glass globe roughly the size of an egg. It was imbued with a spell that allowed the tracking of Nev’s movement to continue. By cutting across a section of river and often not following roads, the extraction party greatly shortened the distance between HQ in Kanamaly and where Nev seemed to be located.

  “Let’s stop for a moment so that I can recheck our direction,” Dehwar said. All the horses were brought to a stop.

  Jamal let go of the Stonekicker’s reins and flexed his fingers. Two half-moons hung in the sky, casting pale light across the sand. Fear gnawed at Jamal’s belly. Was Nev still alive? Being tortured? Dying at the hands of a mage with no morals and no compassion?

  “He should be close,” Dehwar said. “Just over the next dune, if I’m reading this right.” He tucked the glass ball back the pouch that hung on his saddle. “Move out.”

  As the party crested the top of the dune, they could see an encampment below. A large tent, a collection of a handful of people, horses, a wagon, and a cooking fire were spread on a shallow plane. A fine tremor shook the sand where Jamal and the others stood. All the soldiers looked at each other, uncertain what the vibration meant. Indistinct screaming came from the tent.

  “Go now!” Dehwar shouted.

  Jamal and the other Querteshan soldiers rode down the slope of the dune full tilt, weapons drawn.

  A figure came out of the tent, and the wind immediately picked up. Two breaths and a twisting cone of fire blossomed. Firestorm.

  The horses bucked and veered. The people of the encampment, which Jamal could only assume were Kustaa’s staff, scattered, all obviously attempting to put distance between the fiery tornado and themselves.

  Usually, firestorms moved and changed size, but this one seemed to be fixed in place. Was Kustaa controlling it? Maybe, but somehow, something in his gut doubted that conclusion. Jamal stopped fighting Stonekicker and lunged out of the saddle, hitting the ground and rolling to his feet. Stonekicker would return when everything calmed down. Jamal took a step toward the swirling cone of fire. This was probably going to get him killed, burnt to a crispy cinder, but he felt as if he should go toward it.

  He took a few wary steps, and suddenly, the flaming tornado diminished, died, and then was gone. A slender figure was left standing there, a shadow in the moonlight. A familiar shadow. Jamal ran toward Nev and caught him as he began to collapse.

  “Nev! Are you okay? Oh, gods, why were you in the middle of a firestorm? Where’s Kustaa? He was responsible for your kidnapping, wasn’t he?”

  Nev touched his fingers to Jamal’s mouth. ::Wait.::
r />   Jamal eased Nev to the ground and sat holding him. Nev’s head rested against Jamal’s shoulder. A teeth-chattering tremor ran through him, and he gripped the front of Jamal’s tunic with one hand.

  ::Kustaa is no longer a threat,:: Nev murmured in Jamal’s head.

  ::Did you kill him?::

  ::No, but he no longer has any magic.::

  Jamal had think about that, not sure how to interpret the information. ::How?::

  ::I stripped it all away from him. I don’t know exactly how. I just did.:: Another spate of shaking took hold of Nev’s body.

  Jamal rubbed Nev’s back and kissed his temple, hoping for the trembling to stop. ::Something you learned from Reza?::

  Marginally in control, Nev replied, ::I have no idea. I just…I pulled. I fed it to the earth, and the rest became the firestorm.::

  “Wow…” Jamal murmured out loud. His knowledge of magic was very, very limited, but that sounded like an overwhelming amount of power.

  Nev let out a small whimper that sounded like pain. His whole body stiffened.

  Worried, Jamal held Nev tighter. Heat, like a raging fever, flowed from Nev’s skin. Except it didn’t stop at his skin. Jamal felt heat seeping into his own body. Were both of them going to burst into flames and die? The heat built to the point that Jamal thought he might cry out himself. He stared at his arm where it was wrapped around Nev. It didn’t glow or burn. It looked exactly like it always did. Then the heat faded.

  The night air of the desert was chilly again. Jamal stroked his hand along Nev’s face. It was now cool and clammy.

  ::I think…I think it’s done.:: Nev pressed a finger to Jamal’s lips.

  Jamal kissed his finger.

  Dehwar rode up and dismounted. “Is he okay?”

  “More or less,” Jamal answered. “Did Kustaa leave?”

  The quirky smile on Dehwar’s face was priceless. “He tried. Most of the men who were with him have gone, but we managed to capture him. He’s tied up like a goat for market, yelling and thrashing. But so far, he hasn’t tried any magical methods of escape. He’s being closely watched at the moment.”

  “He can’t,” Nev said softly.

  “Can’t what? Can’t escape?” Dehwar asked.

  “Can’t use magic,” Nev said. “I took it all away. He’s…he’s nicht. His magic is gone.”

  Dehwar raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, I’ll take your opinion under consideration. In the meantime, Reza gave me a leather strap just in case we capture Kustaa. It’s imbued with a spell to lock any magic he tries to exert. Fayed, can you help Nev up? I’d like to get going back in the direction of headquarters before the sun rises.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jamal helped Nev stand. Nev wobbled a bit and clung onto Jamal’s arm. “Come. Let’s get you home.”

  * * * *

  Arrival back at the military headquarters was a loud and chaotic affair. Nev found himself being questioned by Reza, the general, and the colonel. Topics ranged from exactly how he had been taken to why the normal safeguards on the complex had failed to what Kustaa had intended to do with him. Nev answered as best he could. Some things he simply didn’t have answers for.

  He was allowed to have a meal while the upper-level officers made decisions on how to proceed and what to do with Kustaa and the couple of Perathean minions who had been captured with him.

  Nev sat with both hands around a mug of tea. He would have preferred to go back to his quarters and sleep. In bed with Jamal, back to where this all began would have been his choice.

  Dehwar came over and sat near him. “I know you’ve been asked variations of this already, but was Kustaa working with any other mages? Did you hear anything implying he was instigating the beginnings of another war on Quertesh?”

  “He never mentioned having help. His goal seemed entirely focused on using my life force energy to fuel opening a portal into the realm beyond. He said he was going to bring forth an oschaert. I only have tiny understanding of what an oschaert is, some mythical black hell dog.”

  “Okay, obviously this entire event is going to take a while to sort out. Reza and the other mages have significantly reinforced all the magical warding around the complex in the assumption this will prevent any other break-ins. Kustaa, himself, will be undergoing interrogation. Obviously, you had a hand in rendering Kustaa…inoperable, at least for now, so far as we can tell. Reza is of the opinion that you were in control of the fire tornado my team saw.”

  “In control is probably stretching the point a great deal,” Nev confessed.

  “Okay. The archmage will be talking to you about that more later. I have been instructed to ask what your immediate needs are, at least for a next day or so, while the aftermath of this is all processed.”

  Nev was silent for a moment. “I need some rest, preferably an entire day if that’s possible. I also want Jamal Fayed to be re-assigned from his position at Garrison Nine to here at headquarters. I want his living quarters assignment to be with me.”

  “You are…attached to him?” Dehwar smiled slightly.

  Nev nodded. He hoped he wouldn’t have to explain his request any further.

  “I’ll see what I can do to have his duty location changed.”

  “Thank you.”

  * * * *

  Jamal opened the door and let himself into Nev’s quarters. Nev was seated on the low padded bench along the table in the outer room. He was leaned back into the corner, eyes closed, asleep. A nap was probably a very good idea. After all the events of the past couple of days, he was not at all surprised that his lover was exhausted.

  Setting his sack of the clothes on the floor, Jamal leaned against the wall and removed his boots. He padded quietly across the floor and knelt down in front of Nev, leaned in, and kissed him.

  Nev opened his eyes. “I sat down to wait for you. I guess I nodded off.”

  “No problem. You must have a lot of influence as of late. Dehwar informed me that I’ve been transferred from the garrison to here, and that my new duty assignment is support staff for the Mage Corps.”

  Nev smiled. “I wasn’t sure if they would agree, but I asked.” He took Jamal’s hands in his own. “I can’t stand being alone, being so far from you. I know we discussed it and, at the time, thought it was unlikely. When the opportunity came up to request having you close, I took it. Was that okay?”

  “Very okay. And I don’t have to report for duty until tomorrow morning, so that means I can spend the night.”

  “Oh, I guess that means your housing assignment didn’t get changed to here with me?” Nev looked disappointed.

  “Uh, truthfully, I didn’t ask. I was so focused on being transferred to headquarters that I forgot to ask about housing. Do you really think they’re going to let me live with you?”

  “I hope. I asked them to. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

  Jamal gathered Nev into his arms. “In the meantime, I want to spend the whole night holding you. I was terrified that Kustaa or his people were going to kill you before the rescue team and I could get to you.”

  “There were moments when I did think I was likely to die,” Nev admitted. “Gods…I love you, and I thought I would never see you again.” He cupped his hands around Jamal’s face and kissed him.

  “I love you, too. Let’s go to bed.”

  “I’m filthy. I want a bath. I was going to take one as soon as I got back here, but then I got distracted by waiting for you.”

  Jamal laughed. “So we’ll take one together then.”

  Nev stood up and took a couple of steps in the direction of the bathroom, then paused and looked back. “Bring the bottle of wine on the table. We could both use a drink.”

  Jamal stretched out his arm to reach for the bottle on the table. It floated into the air and landed in his hand. “Cute,” he commented. He glanced at Nev. Nev stood there, eyes wide, mouth open. “What?”

  “That wasn’t me.”

  Jamal frowned. “What do you mean it wasn’t you?”

/>   “You did that. You drew the bottle to your hand,” Nev insisted.

  They both stared at each other, astounded.

  THE END

  ABOUT A.R. MOLER

  A.R. Moler is a chemistry professor at a community college, a homeschooling mom, and an avid science fiction fan. She is a devotee of first hand research for her writing whenever possible and to this end has: learned to fire a handgun, been rappelling, ridden with both EMS and the police, flown a helicopter, bought a motorcycle, and learned to ride it. She has traveled to nearly all the places where her stories are set and taken hundreds of photos for documentation. She has been writing since her high school years, but only recently has become published. For more information, visit armoler.com.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!

 

 

  A.R. Moler, Born Magic

 

 

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